


Distant Echoes

by CorsetJinx



Category: Dissidia Duodecim: Final Fantasy
Genre: Aftermath of battle, Blood, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, references to traumatic events, unpleasant recollections
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-07
Updated: 2016-03-07
Packaged: 2018-05-25 05:59:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6183385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CorsetJinx/pseuds/CorsetJinx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chaos’ warriors initiated the assault and the wounded must be tended. To Yuna, this seems uncomfortably familiar.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Distant Echoes

The sight of injured comrades, if not friends, always stirred something in the back of her mind. It felt similar to the times when a snippet of a memory passed through her mind, a vague, lingering impression that made her wonder about its context – to say nothing of the sense of being a stranger in her own skin. But this was sharper, verging on discomfort – not because she was in any physical pain, but due to the suspicion that whatever she nearly remembered was something less than pleasant. Far, far less than pleasant.

But her friends were hurt and potions were in short supply, she was one of the few, if the only, person that possessed a grasp of healing magic and knowledge.

Cuts, lacerations, burns, broken bones – these were all things she knew, on some level, how to treat and heal. A part of her felt confident that, if necessary, she may be able to push beyond even that and mend greater, but the exact knowledge wouldn’t make itself known.

It was lost among her memories, it would seem – dangling on the faint promise of recovery if she could find her crystal, or perhaps be fortunate enough to recall what she needed after a battle.

Turning her gaze from the drawn, pained features of the Onion Knight however, Yuna wondered if she really did want to remember after all. She was no stranger to battle, it seemed. What she lacked in strength, her aeons provided if she called. Her magic had protected her more than once. There were callouses on her hands that did not come from idle, more peaceful, work.

Yet, she pushed her attention away from the sight of red _(bright, brighter than she’d thought or remembered)_ on her hands and kept her voice calm even though the young man she was treating kept saying that he was fine. He would be alright, some part of her concluded – not detached so much as assured, similar to the calm she drew upon when all seemed lost.

“There. With some rest, you’ll be alright.” She smiled, lightly touching Onion’s arm with her clean hand.

“What about you?” Even though she’d treated his injuries, magic couldn’t do much for lingering aches and fatigue, but his large green eyes _(normal eyes not like - )_ stared up at her with concern.

“I’ll be fine.” She checked, one last time, that he was settled and not likely to force himself up _(shouldn’t move after taking a hit like that, pushing so far would only hurt more)_ and was moving on even as he called for her to wait.

Yuna didn’t feel tired, not like she thought she would have if they were in any place but this – a war between deities revolving around crystals of dubious power. Her magic didn’t drain her, summoning her aeons put only minor strain on her mind and body, no different from walking for several hours.

_(had she really fallen after they agreed to help her in whatever murky past they shared?)_

_(the feeling of stone on her knees, sweat from her brow seemed familiar but if that was the exhaustion she’d faced after just one how could she do this over and over and feel so little a pull?)_

Kain shifted when she settled next to him, pale light already at her fingertips even though he’d made some progress in treating himself. But he was no mage, not that he was aware, and the gash in his off-arm had not stopped bleeding.

She sensed no poison in the wound, though she cleansed it all the same. With another inhalation, she was casting again – light and energy doing what days, if not a week or more, might have done naturally. It would scar, some part of her, the clinical part maybe?, noted. But that was much, much better than watching him bleed and eventually collapse.

_(she doesn’t want to see anyone else fall like that, so limp, unhealthily pale)_

“Thank you.” Without his helm, she could see the weary gratitude in his oddly colored eyes – darker than Cecil’s but still violet, like his mouth and his nails. When she nodded and made to rise, he stopped her.

He never reached out to anyone (like someone else) and that might have been why she paused.

“You’ve done enough already, don’t you think?” What might have been worry drew a furrow over his brow, but she couldn’t decipher why he was looking at her so cautiously.

“I can help.” The words came out before she thought about them. “I promise I’ll be alright.”

“Lady Yuna - “

She rose and he drew back the hand that had, almost but not quite, touched her sleeve. Her smile didn’t seem to comfort him at all, so she bowed to show her appreciation for his concern.

“I’ll be right back.”

Her boots carried her away, mind already elsewhere even though she was dimly aware that he’d spoken again. Of them all, it seemed that the Onion Knight’s wounds had been the worst – which enemy had inflicted them she could only begin to guess, but there was still more work to do.

_(even if it’s not fatal)_

_(even if she sways as she stands and has to blink more than once to clear her vision)_

_(she can help)_

“Yuna, stop.” Hands, not the words, brought her up short and she realized that she’d been staring into space after healing Zidane. He was looking at her, long golden tail twitching in agitation as he waited for her to respond.

“I’m alright, really. You don’t have to worry.” Her hands curled, and she realized that he’d taken them in his own at some point when she hadn’t been paying attention. The cloth of his gloves worn smooth in some places, probably from the twin daggers he wielded. Although she couldn’t have said why, the fact that she could feel a bit of his skin’s warmth through the material was comforting.

Zidane didn’t look at all that convinced, for all he gave her hands a gentle squeeze.

“You need to take a break.” The seriousness of his tone woke her up a little _(how long had she been inside her own head?)_ but as she watched his expression smoothed out into an almost charming smile, and a little wink. “After all, it wouldn’t do if a pretty lady like you just keeled over.”

“Knock it off.” Squall’s voice carried easily over the quiet, not fazing Zidane in the least.

_(when did it get to be so quiet? why did it feel like she was bracing herself for loud bursts like Sir Laguna’s artillery but magnified?)_

“I - “

“No buts.” The blond’s tone was final and he released her hands at last, tail curling idly behind him. From over his right shoulder, Bartz sent her a smile, rolling his wrist almost experimentally.

“You’ve already done more than enough. Don’t tire yourself out on our account, okay?” Warm fingers brushed her shoulder _(not gloved, too warm to be him)_ and she looked up to see Tifa smiling softly. The taller woman’s stance was calm, if weary, and it was strangely easy to smile back.

“Besides, Light’s learned some magic of her own – haven’t you Lightning?” Tifa’s long hair rustled faintly as she turned her head, drawing Yuna’s own gaze towards the pink haired soldier now turning her face away – almost like she was embarrassed.

“I am pretty sure that Lightning’s beside manner is nothing compared to Yuna’s.” Zidane grinned as he said it, only faintly wilting under the sharp-eyed look he received for it.

A scoff was the first thing to leave Lightning’s mouth.

“If that’s the way you’re gonna be, I’ll leave you behind next time.” The woman folded her arms, all lines of her serious and she had the impression that Bartz had joined Zidane in wincing.

Yuna allowed herself that moment, just briefly, to close her eyes.

Something still lurked in the recesses of her mind – unpleasant but still a part of her all the same. But this wasn’t that place, and she sensed the situation was different from the one her mind foreboded. Most importantly, she didn’t have to carry it alone.

“Alright.” The word drew attention, as she’d known it would, but she only offered a tired, but genuine, smile in return. “I’m sure Lightning will do her best.”

A bit of pink rose to the other woman’s cheeks before she apparently stamped it down, but that was alright.

None of them were alone, and that was what mattered.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: the hints of what Yuna doesn’t want to recall are of Operation Mi’hen and the assault on the Al Bhed’s Home.


End file.
